The Old Curiosity Club discussion
This topic is about
Hard Times
Hard Times
>
Book One Chp. 15-16
date
newest »
newest »
Mod
"He could not make up his mind how to do that, or what the consequences of the step might be. Whether she would instantly depart, bag and baggage, to Lady Scadgers, or would positively refuse to budge from the premises; whether she would be plaintive or abusive, tearful or tearing; whether she would break her heart, or break the looking-glass; Mr. Bounderby could not all foresee. However, as it must be done, he had no choice but to do it; so, after attempting several letters, and failing in them all, he resolved to do it by word of mouth."
He even buys a bottle of the very strongest smelling-salts in case she should faint when he tells her. Mrs. Sparsit does none of the things he was worried about however, she neither leaves, cries, screams, breaks things or faints. She remains sitting in the same position still with her needlework in her lap. Women always seem to be doing some sort of needlework in Victorian times. She manages to wish him happiness with all her heart, but in a superior and pitying manor:
"And I hope, sir,’ said Mrs. Sparsit, concluding in an impressively compassionate manner, ‘I fondly hope that Miss Gradgrind may be all you desire, and deserve!’
Nothing moved Mrs. Sparsit from that position any more. It was in vain for Bounderby to bluster or to assert himself in any of his explosive ways; Mrs. Sparsit was resolved to have compassion on him, as a Victim. She was polite, obliging, cheerful, hopeful; but, the more polite, the more obliging, the more cheerful, the more hopeful, the more exemplary altogether, she; the forlorner Sacrifice and Victim, he. She had that tenderness for his melancholy fate, that his great red countenance used to break out into cold perspirations when she looked at him."
I thought as I was reading this of Louisa's reaction to the news that Bounderby wanted to marry her. Her father was expecting some sort of reaction from her at the news and she just sat looking out the window at the smoke. And now Bounderby expected some reaction from Mrs. Sparsit and she just sits with her needlework just as composed as before he told her. I don't see any particular meaning to it, I was just struck by how these two men so misjudged the responses of the two women. Maybe they should spend more time studying people and less time studying facts.
Anyway, it is also agreed between them that she will no longer live with him once he is married, but will move to an apartment over the bank, her position being the "keeper of the bank", at the same terms as she has now. I was surprised that Bounderby was able to allow Mrs. Sparsit to live anywhere else but his home where he could always point out her position to everyone that enters the place. I did think when Mrs. Sparsit says that Bounderby's proposal is like himself - I would probably try to find a new position somewhere else.
‘Sir,’ returned Mrs. Sparsit. ‘The proposal is like yourself, and if the position I shall assume at the Bank is one that I could occupy without descending lower in the social scale—’
‘Why, of course it is,’ said Bounderby. ‘If it was not, ma’am, you don’t suppose that I should offer it to a lady who has moved in the society you have moved in. Not that I care for such society, you know! But you do.’
‘Mr. Bounderby, you are very considerate.’
‘You’ll have your own private apartments, and you’ll have your coals and your candles, and all the rest of it, and you’ll have your maid to attend upon you, and you’ll have your light porter to protect you, and you’ll be what I take the liberty of considering precious comfortable,’ said Bounderby.
‘Sir,’ rejoined Mrs. Sparsit, ‘say no more. In yielding up my trust here, I shall not be freed from the necessity of eating the bread of dependence:’ she might have said the sweetbread, for that delicate article in a savoury brown sauce was her favourite supper: ‘and I would rather receive it from your hand, than from any other. Therefore, sir, I accept your offer gratefully, and with many sincere acknowledgments for past favours."
The rest of the chapter is the courtship and marriage of Bounderby and Louisa. The courtship was one of facts, love was made by gifts of bracelets, and the entire thing took a manufacturing aspect. Dresses were made, jewelry was made, cakes and gloves were made, and of course, settlements were made, all preparations went forward. Then a church wedding and a breakfast at Stone Lodge. Bounderby makes a speech filled with things you would expect from him:
‘Ladies and gentlemen, I am Josiah Bounderby of Coketown. Since you have done my wife and myself the honour of drinking our healths and happiness, I suppose I must acknowledge the same; though, as you all know me, and know what I am, and what my extraction was, you won’t expect a speech from a man who, when he sees a Post, says “that’s a Post,” and when he sees a Pump, says “that’s a Pump,” and is not to be got to call a Post a Pump, or a Pump a Post, or either of them a Toothpick........Now I have mentioned, and you have mentioned, that I am this day married to Tom Gradgrind’s daughter. I am very glad to be so. It has long been my wish to be so. I have watched her bringing-up, and I believe she is worthy of me. At the same time—not to deceive you—I believe I am worthy of her."
That post, pump, post thing is so, so, so annoying. I really think he should have spent more time telling us about the gutter and egg box he used to live in. Here are some more wedding facts:
"There was an improving party assembled on the auspicious occasion, who knew what everything they had to eat and drink was made of, and how it was imported or exported, and in what quantities, and in what bottoms, whether native or foreign, and all about it. The bridesmaids, down to little Jane Gradgrind, were, in an intellectual point of view, fit helpmates for the calculating boy; and there was no nonsense about any of the company."
I wonder what Sissy thought of the wedding, I can't remember if she was there. Only once during the entire proceedings did Louisa lose her composure: that was upon parting from her brother, Tom. Her brother didn't seem concerned at all, he seemed quite cheerful, and sent her to the waiting Bounderby saying:
‘Old Bounderby’s quite ready,’ said Tom. ‘Time’s up. Good-bye! I shall be on the look-out for you, when you come back. I say, my dear Loo! An’t it uncommonly jolly now!"
And with that I am winding up the chapter and also the first part of our book. It will be up to Tristram next week to make me understand why Dickens needed to divide the book into three parts. Perhaps I will find something cheerful in Part II.
‘Old Bounderby’s quite ready,’ said Tom.
Brrrrr this really gives me the creeps. Gradgrind is under the desillusion that he does the right thing for Louisa and that is bad enough, but Tom knows full well that he is pimping his sister out to a nasty old man for his own gain.
Brrrrr this really gives me the creeps. Gradgrind is under the desillusion that he does the right thing for Louisa and that is bad enough, but Tom knows full well that he is pimping his sister out to a nasty old man for his own gain.
Happy birthday, Kim! I hope God gives you relief from your afflictions for your birthday. I'm very sorry to hear you're suffering so.
Like Jantine (I think it was) mentioned in another thread, Hard Times seems to be a bit more straightforward and, therefore, there seems to be less to pick apart and comment on with each week's installment. I like Kim's observation that perhaps Gradgrind and Boundary need to focus a little less on facts and a little more on human nature. I don't have my Nook at hand, where I may have highlighted some passages; frankly, I'm not feeling motivated enough to go find it. But I seem to remember there was more time imagery, and talk of clocks, which is probably symbolic. Whenever I think of the symbolism surrounding clocks, this old song always comes to mind...
https://youtu.be/htHDu-1m4Pw
It's always surprising to me that something so sad is considered a kiddy song, but I digress. Who or what is being represented by the clock in Hard Times? I'm afraid it may be Louisa.
Mod
Brrrrr this really gives me the creeps. Gradgrind is under the desillusion that he does the right thing for Louisa and that is bad enough, but Tom knows fu..."
Jantine
Yes. Tom Gradgrind falls into the same ring of Dante’s hell as Ralph Nickleby.
Mary Lou wrote: "Happy birthday, Kim! I hope God gives you relief from your afflictions for your birthday. I'm very sorry to hear you're suffering so."Yes, happy (belated?) birthday, Kim, and thank you for sharing your time and commentary with us. I know I'm not the only one who always enjoys your perspective.
I agree with everyone who found this chilling. Gradgrind is so clueless, and Louisa so innocent in asking his opinion and thinking his philosophy can bring anything relevant to bear on this question at all. You can tell by the way that "love" immediately becomes a "misplaced expression."
Mod
My sister gave me a funny look yesterday when after asking me what I was doing for my birthday this year I said the same thing I did last year, ignore it. She seemed to think this..."
Kim
Poor Louisa indeed. “What does it matter” is a chilling phrase upon which to begin a life’s partnership. Sadly, Louisa was one of almost countless women who married because they were chattel to solidify a family’s social or economic position, or to fulfill the wishes of parents. There is a languid despondency in her words, her body language and her heart and soul.
It is depressing to see how out of touch her father is. Gradgrind simply doesn’t get the idea of love. Rather, he only sees the proposed marriage as a philosophical and logical end point.
Their conversation makes me uneasy and depressed.
Yes, indeed, poor Louisa.
Mod
I've been wondering what would have happened if Louisa would have said no. I wish I knew.
Mod
Mod
"My Dear Louisa," Returned Mr. Gradgrind, Re-Assured and Satisfied, "You Correct Me Justly. I Merely Wished to Discharge My Duty."
Chapter 15
Commentary:
"In Thomas Gradgrind's Blue-Book lined library, which Dickens describes as the Utilitarian equivalent of the astronomical observatory, while "a deadly statistical clock" beats an obligato, Louisa hears Bounderby's proposal of a marital partnership from the lips of her father. Neither seems moved by even the trace of a sentiment or emotion in Reinhart's plate, although Gradgrind does seem to be taking his daughter's hand sympathetically. In the illustration, no window reveals the smoke and grime of the factory town, no "deadly statistical clock" raps out the hours; instead, barely sketched in on the wall behind Louisa is a map and a graph. Several large books lean on their sides, as if several volumes have been abstracted from that lower shelf, as Louisa is about to be put into circulation as the wife of Gradgrind's fellow industrialist and chief political ally (and soon-to-be son-in-law). Fully visible rather than hidden by his top-hat, Gradgrind's skull is noticeably indented on the top, as if he had an extra brain, as he discounts the importance of mutual affection in a marriage."
Mod
Louisa and her father
Chapter 15
Harry French
Text Illustrated:
To this Observatory, then: a stern room, with a deadly statistical clock in it, which measured every second with a beat like a rap upon a coffin-lid; Louisa repaired on the appointed morning. A window looked towards Coketown; and when she sat down near her father’s table, she saw the high chimneys and the long tracts of smoke looming in the heavy distance gloomily.
‘My dear Louisa,’ said her father, ‘I prepared you last night to give me your serious attention in the conversation we are now going to have together. You have been so well trained, and you do, I am happy to say, so much justice to the education you have received, that I have perfect confidence in your good sense. You are not impulsive, you are not romantic, you are accustomed to view everything from the strong dispassionate ground of reason and calculation. From that ground alone, I know you will view and consider what I am going to communicate.’
He waited, as if he would have been glad that she said something. But she said never a word.
‘Louisa, my dear, you are the subject of a proposal of marriage that has been made to me.’
Again he waited, and again she answered not one word. This so far surprised him, as to induce him gently to repeat, ‘a proposal of marriage, my dear.’ To which she returned, without any visible emotion whatever:
‘I hear you, father. I am attending, I assure you.’
‘Well!’ said Mr. Gradgrind, breaking into a smile, after being for the moment at a loss, ‘you are even more dispassionate than I expected, Louisa. Or, perhaps, you are not unprepared for the announcement I have it in charge to make?’
‘I cannot say that, father, until I hear it. Prepared or unprepared, I wish to hear it all from you. I wish to hear you state it to me, father.’
Mod
Mod
Mod
Mod
You are so right. Both Gradgrind and Bounderby have made terrible misjudgements. Bounderby is a grotesque man, rather Quilp-like in his aggressiveness. Quilp was more openly aggressive towards Poor Nell but I get an uneasy feeling when I think of Bounderby with Louisa.
Bounderby’s semi-fearful, semi-placating attitude towards Mrs Sparsit could be seem as humourous, but it makes me uneasy. It seems that every male-female relationship in this novel has someone entrapped. Stephen and his wife (what is her name?) Gradgrind’s wife, Louisa, and who knows what’s next. This is definitely not a novel to read for any feel good ideas of marriage.
We are very far from the innocent sweetness of David and Dora.
Mod
Normally I really enjoy wedding photos, but these are disturbing. If also strangely ordinary.
Mod
Louisa and her father
Chapter 15
Harry French
Text Illustrated:
To this Observatory, then: a stern room, with a deadly statistical clock in it, which measured every second with a beat like a ..."
Kim
Thanks for the illustrations. As father and daughter sit by the window it looks more like a business transaction is about to occur than anything else. Sadly, that is exactly what is occurring.
At least the Harry French illustration has Gradgrind looking human, but I imagine Louisa being younger looking.Thanks for including the stills from the various productions. I've never seen an adaptation of Hard Times, which surprises me. You'd think its short length, circus people, and memorable characters would cry out for a screen play.
Mod
Mod
I've been wondering what would have happened if Louisa would have said no..."
My guess is that Mr. Gradgrind would have been astonished but that he would not have put any kind of coercion on her. Apart, maybe, from the subtle verbal coercion he has already used in his talk with his daughter, referring to her rational common sense and hinting at the lack of reason there is according to him in the concept of love. The person who would have made dire reproaches to Louisa and who would have tried to use psychological force to make the marriage come off would have been, to my mind, her worthless brother Tom, because he is very eager to drive Louisa into a marriage with Bounderby in order to further his own future plans, whatever they may be.
I also wondered at how often Bounderby refers to Louisa not as "Louisa" but as "Tom Gradgrind's daughter". This is as though Louisa were a kind of trophy, a sign of achievement for him: He, Josiah Bounderby of Coketown, who was brought up in a ditch and who scrambled from rags to riches, finally married the daughter of someone from a respectable higher class. What is it that Bounderby sees in Louisa? Not so much herself as an individual woman, perhaps, but a pertinent sign of his social climb.
It's also quite interesting that the chapter entitled "Husband and Wife" devotes more space to Mr. Bounderby and Mrs. Sparsit than to Bounderby and his wife. I am afraid that Mrs. Sparsit will bide her time and later pick her bone with Louisa in one way or other.
My sister gave me a funny look yesterday when after asking me what I was doing for my birthday this year I said the same thing I did last year, ignore it. She seemed to think this year should be different since I hit a new decade so I told her I am doing something different, I'm opening this week's installment. I don’t think she was impressed. Anyway, as I read this week's two chapters I was wondering how many happy moments have been in this book so far and I find I can't think of any at all. This chapter is no different. Chapter 15 is titled "Father and Daughter" and begins with Louisa with her father in his room. His room is described like this:
"Although Mr. Gradgrind did not take after Blue Beard, his room was quite a blue chamber in its abundance of blue books. Whatever they could prove (which is usually anything you like), they proved there, in an army constantly strengthening by the arrival of new recruits. In that charmed apartment, the most complicated social questions were cast up, got into exact totals, and finally settled—if those concerned could only have been brought to know it. As if an astronomical observatory should be made without any windows, and the astronomer within should arrange the starry universe solely by pen, ink, and paper, so Mr. Gradgrind, in his Observatory (and there are many like it), had no need to cast an eye upon the teeming myriads of human beings around him, but could settle all their destinies on a slate, and wipe out all their tears with one dirty little bit of sponge."
Although usually I would love a room having an abundance of any books, this one doesn't appeal to me and doesn't look good for Louisa. We are told that Louisa sits looking out the window seeing the high chimneys and the long tracts of smoke looming in the heavy distance gloomily. Sounds wonderful, it just keeps getting better and better for Louisa. Mr. Gradgrind tells her that she has been well trained, not impulsive, not romantic, accustomed to view everything from the strong dispassionate ground of reason and calculation, and having extreme good sense. That all sounded awful. He then tells her that a proposal of marriage has been made to him concerning Louisa. He is surprised when she continues to sit quietly showing no emotion at all. Finally he tells her what we all know, that it is Mr. Bounderby who has made the marriage proposal to which Louisa finally replies:
‘Father,’ said Louisa, ‘do you think I love Mr. Bounderby?’
Mr. Gradgrind certainly didn't seem to be expecting that question from her. His embarrassed answer, that he cannot say only brings more uncomfortable questions:
‘Father,’ pursued Louisa in exactly the same voice as before, ‘do you ask me to love Mr. Bounderby?’
‘My dear Louisa, no. No. I ask nothing.’
‘Father,’ she still pursued, ‘does Mr. Bounderby ask me to love him?’
‘Really, my dear,’ said Mr. Gradgrind, ‘it is difficult to answer your question—’
‘Difficult to answer it, Yes or No, father?"
When her father gives her a very unsatisfactory answer - I think so anyway, telling her of Bounderby's good sense, and her good sense, and how Bounderby would never forget what is due to her good sense, finishing by telling her that the expression - of loving each other - is a little "misplaced". He goes on to tell her that the ignorant and the giddy may think of marriage with such fancies, and other absurdities that have no existence, but that Louisa should know better. She should consider the "facts", while there is some disparity in their ages there is none in their means and positions. He goes on to tell her more statistics of marriage proving - to him anyway - that in marriages of un-equal ages it is almost always the groom is the elder. Louisa, like myself, seems unimpressed by this fact and she goes on to say:
‘What do you recommend, father,’ asked Louisa, her reserved composure not in the least affected by these gratifying results, ‘that I should substitute for the term I used just now? For the misplaced expression?
After telling her again to consider the facts we are told Louisa sits silently looking toward the town. Mr. Gradgrand finally asks her what she sees out the window and she replies there is nothing but languid and monotonous smoke, following that comment by saying life is very short and she would do the little she can, and the little she is fit for while it lasts. I thought about this for awhile, what would be the little she could do by marrying Bounderby? The only thing I think it could mean is to take care of her brother Tom. Louisa accepts the proposal with the words "what does it matter" and in response to that there is this sad conversation:
‘Louisa, I have not considered it essential to ask you one question, because the possibility implied in it appeared to me to be too remote. But perhaps I ought to do so. You have never entertained in secret any other proposal?’
‘Father,’ she returned, almost scornfully, ‘what other proposal can have been made to me? Whom have I seen? Where have I been? What are my heart’s experiences?’
‘My dear Louisa,’ returned Mr. Gradgrind, reassured and satisfied. ‘You correct me justly. I merely wished to discharge my duty.’
‘What do I know, father,’ said Louisa in her quiet manner, ‘of tastes and fancies; of aspirations and affections; of all that part of my nature in which such light things might have been nourished? What escape have I had from problems that could be demonstrated, and realities that could be grasped?’ As she said it, she unconsciously closed her hand, as if upon a solid object, and slowly opened it as though she were releasing dust or ash.
‘My dear,’ assented her eminently practical parent, ‘quite true, quite true.’
‘Why, father,’ she pursued, ‘what a strange question to ask me! The baby-preference that even I have heard of as common among children, has never had its innocent resting-place in my breast. You have been so careful of me, that I never had a child’s heart. You have trained me so well, that I never dreamed a child’s dream. You have dealt so wisely with me, father, from my cradle to this hour, that I never had a child’s belief or a child’s fear.’
Mr. Gradgrind was quite moved by his success, and by this testimony to it. ‘My dear Louisa,’ said he, ‘you abundantly repay my care. Kiss me, my dear girl.’
So, his daughter kissed him. Detaining her in his embrace, he said, ‘I may assure you now, my favourite child, that I am made happy by the sound decision at which you have arrived."
I wonder if it is true that Louisa is his favourite child, how he can be so blind as to her real feelings. He is reassured by what she said, and is moved by his success? There must be something wrong with the man. And when this book is done I'm hoping not to see the word "facts" for a long, long time. Her answer of "what does it matter" bothered me mostly because I had used the same sentence only a few hours before I read the chapter. Mine was the answer to my husband's asking me if my pain management doctor had returned my call yet. He hasn't. And I am so tired of having migraine headaches and chronic neck pain that nothing helps I gave him the answer "no, what does it matter". If Louisa was having the thoughts I was having when saying those same words I truely feel sorry for her.
Anyway, they then go to share the "happy" news with the rest of the family and the chapter ends with this:
"When Mr. Gradgrind had presented Mrs. Bounderby, Sissy had suddenly turned her head, and looked, in wonder, in pity, in sorrow, in doubt, in a multitude of emotions, towards Louisa. Louisa had known it, and seen it, without looking at her. From that moment she was impassive, proud and cold—held Sissy at a distance—changed to her altogether."
Poor Louisa.